


Really, Really

by all-or-nothing-baby (BundleOfSoy)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (because i say so), Alpha Derek Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, But Stiles knows Derek sometimes needs to relinquish his control, Derek Hale in Love, Derek Hale's Loft, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski in Love, Derek loves Robert De Niro, Experienced Stiles Stilinski, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, POV Derek, POV Derek Hale, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stiles Knows what Derek Needs, Stiles Loves Giving Head, Stiles Stilinski Gives Oral Sex, Stiles Stilinski Has ADHD, Stiles Stilinski is Not a Virgin, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles gives epic blowjobs, Stiles knows what Derek wants, Top Derek, Top Derek Hale, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Wet & Messy, porn with love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 04:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19939963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BundleOfSoy/pseuds/all-or-nothing-baby
Summary: When Derek first told Stiles he had a big mouth, he really,reallyhad no fucking idea.Derek's shoulder blades are beginning to ache already at the angle he's twisting himself into to see, but he just can't bring himself to lay back down. He needs to witness the marvellous spectacle that is Stiles Stilinski devouring him.ORThe one where Stiles ends up giving Derek far more than just an (albeit stellar) orgasm.





	Really, Really

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sharkfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/gifts).



> This was almost called a couple of different things, such as:
> 
> Just For The Taste Of It... Derek Hale! (sung to the tune of the old Diet Coke ad)
> 
> AND
> 
> Big Mouth Strikes Again. #becausestiles
> 
> Dedicated to Sharkfish because, J, it's entirely your fault I'm now stuck on these boys like glue.

The first time Stiles sucks Derek's dick, Derek comes like a Japanese bullet train.

On cloudy grey Egyptian cotton sheets covering the king-size bed in Derek's loft, a lean Stilinski climbs Derek's thick thighs like a long-limbed mountain cat; eyes on the prize and mouth practically watering as he claims it.

"Jesus Christ, Stiles. You are really, _really_ \--fffffuck!" Derek chokes out when Stilinski fully deepthroats him after only three teasing licks and five full passes of his hard-on.

_And how the fuck is Derek the one choking?_

As Derek pushes himself up onto elbows and the back of strong forearms to see better, Stiles-- _making a show of it, of course_ \--now lifts his head, slowly, slowly, sliding off Derek's slicked cock with a practised and flourished _pop_.

"That's because, Derek," Stiles gently pants, half his face crawling into his playful smirk, while the other stays perfectly sultry, eyes heavy and dark yet piercing through even darker, feathery lashes. Then, making Derek wait, he pulls a breath through freshly wetted lips and exhales his warm answer, telling him, "I really, _really_ like it."

"Giving head?" Derek blurts, "or giving _me_ head?" he specifies, swallowing hard, the head on his shoulders now spinning with absurd pleasure as Stiles grips tighter at the base and blows cooling air onto his erection, then licks hot tongue right up a vein, making Derek's dick jump in anticipation.

Derek doesn't bother holding back the growl that rumbles up and out of his throat, loud and fierce and beastly.

The other side of Stiles' grin appears.

"Both, you big, dumb wolfman," and then those pretty-pink lips are once again enveloping the flushed head of Derek's gloriously hard cock. Within half a second, Stiles is back to swallowing Derek down as if it were the very thing he was born to do; the swollen tip now rhythmically bumping the back of Stiles' elegant, swan-like throat.

When Derek first told Stiles he had a big mouth, he really _, really_ had no fucking idea.

Derek's shoulder blades are beginning to ache already at the angle he's twisting himself into to see, but he just can't bring himself to lay back down. He _needs_ to witness the marvellous spectacle that is Stiles Stilinski _devouring_ him.

Both of Stiles' hands are now either side of Derek's crotch, slender fingers splayed and toying with the edges of soft, dark pubic hair. His head's bobbing slowly but with absolute purpose, lithe tongue swirling around Derek's dick like it's his favourite fucking popsicle. On each strong, upward pull, he almost-- _almost_ \--pulls off at the tip, only to sink fully back down until his nose is buried in that soft, dark fuzz. Then he repeats the exquisite torture all over again. And again and again and again...

Stilinski's only just let loose on him, yet Derek can already feel his orgasm beginning to coil inside, the unique but familiar whirlpool of oxytocin and heat and desire, tucked somewhere deep behind his balls. He feels his puckered hole (which Stiles isn't even bothering with) twitching with every plunge the eighteen-year-old takes; with every vibrating hum on Derek's dick that escapes that gorgeous fucking mouth.

And that's _exactly_ what Stiles is using his perfect rosebud mouth for: to fuck Derek mercilessly to within an inch of his life. And Derek's really, _really_ trying his very best to hold back--and _Jesus_ , to just hold the fuck on.

_Calm down,_ Derek tries willing himself, with only a pitiful modicum of success.

Stiles must sense Derek's muscles tense, as he's now fully smirking around his cock. Then the smirk is falling as quickly as it appeared, and Stiles is mumbling his words around Derek as he pulls off, voice low and tender and unusually earnest. Saliva and pre-come strings artfully between lips and cock-end as he speaks.

"It's okay, Derek, you can let go," Stiles is panting loudly, now. "I know you wanna, man. And I know you're worried you'll go too far... but you _won't_. Just fuck my pretty mouth like I know you want to." And just like that, he's back to sucking Derek off like an absolute pro. Then Derek can suddenly _feel_ the glow of red burst through the irises of his pale green eyes, swirling like oil in water, the instinct to mate kicking in with a vengeance. He's struggling to contain himself, and he _wants_ to let go--God, he really, _really_ does--but he's scared the moment he gives in to the hunger, claws will shoot out of his nail-beds as fast as he'll shoot his load, like some inexperienced, goofy-ass wolfboy, not wolf _man_ \--and he's _way_ too fucking proud of where he's gotten to for _that_ scenario to play out. Especially the first time his new lover is (albeit expertly) blowing him.

But Stilinski is just taking and taking, like he wants _exactly_ that to happen, for Derek to lose it; it's like Stiles is craving it; fiucking _needs_ it like air and like there's nothing in the world he'd let up for, not even claws sinking their way viciously deep beneath his creamy, fragile skin.

And Derek wants to last so bad, desperately doesn't want to come yet. He wants to fuck Stiles senseless into his mattress, wants the memory foam to hold Stiles' wiry body shape for a whole week; wants to fuck that hot as sin smirk from Stiles' beautiful, mole-peppered face; fuck his pert ass like Derek _knows_ Stiles wants him to, like it's all Stiles' birthdays and Christmases rolled into one big glorious fuck; fill Stiles up till Stiles is keening and whimpering and fucking _begging_ for Derek to please please _please_ come inside him and… and shit, this is so definitely _not_ helping.

Derek bites into his lip and tastes blood, mixed with the most intense pleasure Stiles is so gracefully spoon-feeding him.

Stiles' right hand has wrapped around the base of Derek's dick again, and it's squeezing harder each time his swollen mouth sinks low enough to meet circled finger and thumb. And each time he sucks all the way back up to the gaping, leaking slit, that same hand dutifully follows, twisting and sliding pure magic over Derek's slicked, dark foreskin as it goes.

Stilinski is waking every single mutated cell in this werewolf's taut body--and Derek has never felt more alive. Everything is alight inside of him, burning and spreading through his every nerve ending like blissfully destructive wildfire. Stiles is ruthless, taking it all _,_ and Derek is only just now realising…

He never had any choice in the matter.

And, somehow, having his alpha prowess stripped from him so shamelessly like this, by a weak and breakable human--to feel powerful yet powerless and worshipped and _taken_ so damn relentlessly, all-at-once--is by far the hottest thing Derek has experienced.

With anyone. _Ever_.

Derek's always been treated as an alpha by human lovers, even when he was just a beta. Always expected so do all the taking, even if sometimes he really, _really_ just wanted to be taken. Derek's not sure he was even aware of this until now.

_Until Stiles._

And it's this unprecedented and unexpected revelation--coupled with the drawn-out and filthy noise that's now erupting from somewhere deep within Stiles at his love for the apparently delicious taste of his werewolf's oozing pre-come--that sends Derek's already lacking restraint hurtling head first over the crumbling precipice. The swirling whirlpool of desire inside him is at once a fucking formidable vortex of pure and unadulterated ecstasy. And, as Stiles' bobbing and sucking become more desirably frantic, the kid lowers his free hand, scrambling to caress and knead Derek's hyper-sensitive balls, forcing Derek's eyes to roll back in their sockets. And at Stiles' coaxing _come on, baby…_ Derek's head hits the pillow with brute, supernatural force, all hope of lasting now forgotten, and he barely has time to shout Stiles' name before he's coming harder and faster than he knew he even could. His hands reach out and hold Stiles' head gently in place-- _no fangs out, no claws_ \--as Stiles facilitates the illusion of Derek being in control for nobody's _sake_ , not really, just to show Derek he cares. And as Derek's shattering gratification now spurts out and down Stiles' raw throat in gorgeously hot, long white ropes, Stiles gladly swallows down every last goddamn drop like the Dick-Sucking star-player that he is. Derek shudders and shakes and groans his way through epic orgasm--and Stiles moans in satisfactory answer, his brows drawn together appreciatively at the awesome sight of a completely torn-down Derek Hale. Skillfully-- _almost lovingly_ \--Stiles milks Derek dry, till Derek has to tell him to stop.

So, Stiles stops. But he doesn't pull off Derek's cock just yet. He rests his head on Derek's left thigh, Derek slowly softening and still jerking sporadically inside of Stiles' warm mouth. Both Derek's hands are cradling Stiles' head, blunt fingernails now absently scratching through a birds nest of brunette hair; gentle and attentive and adoring. And he truly cannot help the quiet whimper on each exhausted, exhaled breath. Derek wants to coddle his new mate and mark him and claim him--but that will all wait, for now.

Stiles looks genuinely happy, maybe the happiest Derek's ever seen him. Derek's so fucked-out he can't yet say just how damn happy he is that Stiles is here, wrapped around him--and not only because he just received _the best damned head of his entire fucking life,_ but because Stiles makes Derek feel like he doesn't have to try to be something he's not. Yes, Derek's an alpha now. But he realises that doesn't have to mean he's got to fit into some rigid mold. Stiles Stilinski seems to want Derek Hale for who and whatever he is. And yeah, okay, so the little shit is now grinning like an idiot because Derek shot his load in about two minutes flat, like he's never gotten a blow job his whole life... but that's because Stiles had _wanted_ him to feel that way; Stiles wanted to give that loss of control and ego to Derek. Because the kid seems to be some sort of genius with all sorts of life's strange mysteries--the enigma that is Derek Hale being no exception.

Pantha-like Stiles is now climbing Mount Derek again and doesn't stop till he reaches the summit. Then he's crashing down ungracefully onto Derek's still-heaving chest, licking his lips--truly the cat who got the cream--and slinging an arm and leg across his conquest. Outright nuzzling down, Stiles and his smug smirk are then burying themselves into the sweating crook of Derek's neck, all flirty and feline and feral. Derek's actually almost surprised he can't hear the kid purring.

Derek peers down surreptitiously at Stiles' exquisitely beautiful face. Stiles' mouth is twitching, and Derek suspects the kid is downright itching to ask...

"So, you were saying earlier..." and Stilinski lowers his voice a good few notes, throwing out his best stupid impression of Derek. "Jesus Christ, Stiles, you are really, _really_ … what? Awesome? Unrivaled at giving head? Finish that sentence with something a little more eloquent than _fuuuuck!_ would'ya, huh wolfman?" Stiles is infuriatingly patronizing, almost screaming the elongated expletive in a mocking and high-pitched wail.

"Alright then, Stiles. What I was _going_ to say, was you were really, _really_... okay," Derek deadpans.

_"Okay?"_ Stiles asks, incredulous, but with an almost-inconceivable tremor of insecurity lacing his cocky reply. But Derek hears his heart rate pick up pace. "How _okay_ are we talkin' here? Just so I know..." and he angles his head upwards to see Derek, his furious blinking giving him away.

It's Derek's turn to make Stiles wait.

Derek is subconsciously channelling De Niro--his favourite movie star growing up--and his twisted facial expression and exaggerated shrug of nonchalance are what gives him away far too quickly.

Stiles sits up, pushing Derek playfully, as Derek licks his lips in an over-the-top sultry way, mimicking Stiles' earlier performance.

"Really, _really_ okay." Then his wolf-like grin is morphing into a loud and throaty laugh as Stiles pushes him away again, this time with a little more vigour.

"Alright, alright!" Derek concedes, holding his hands up above himself in surrender. "How 'bout really, _really_ okay… if okay means _best blow job ever_?"

Stiles is obviously visibly surprised at hearing this, not that you could tell by his words.

"Well, you know, obviously. I am _excellent_ at most oral activities."

"Yeah, like talking. You're fucking unrivalled at that, what with that awfully big mouth of yours, Stilinski" Derek states just for the record.

"Oh, really? We're going there? Look, Sourwolf, just because you're all _Ooh, I'm Derek Hale: Lycanthropic Man of Mystery,_ " he tries to say with a straight face, "don't mean you're a cooler cucumber than I, compadre." And Stiles punctuates the statement with his eyebrows. "And I ain't buyin' what you're sellin', man--I know you secretly _lurrve_ my ADHD rambling, wolfman; you, Derek Hale, cannot get enough of... _this._ " Stiles Beyonce-gestures to himself, face reverting to smirking his signature smirk.

Derek looks up at his mate and feels _so_ much more than just lust and feral want. He pulls Stiles' face down into his own and kisses him--velvety and deep and _mine_ \--abruptly shutting Stiles up, if only for a few seconds.

When Derek breaks the kiss and opens his eyes, Stiles' smirk is still there but it's softer.

Derek happily drowns in honeyed brown eyes and smiles a warm smile back.

  
"How about I think that you're really, _really_ okay?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my smut with a touch of a-certain-sour-wolf-falling-in-love-with-a certain-big-mouthed-teenaged-boy-genius.
> 
> This is my first Sterek fic! Please let me know if you liked it by leaving me some yummy kudos and a tasty comment... I'm hungry and thirsty to know if you want more! : )
> 
> Lucy <3


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